What Cannot Be Purchased
by AngelicGirl
Summary: The start of my Draco + Hermione story. The setting: Draco is 20, The Dark Lord rules, muggle-borns are inslaved. Draco is in Voldermort's good graces. A/N (real ch.7 is here. Draco is bad...)
1. Une Promenade Avec Le Diable

What Cannot Be Purchased  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The three of them walked down the street together, slowly.   
The middle figure wore his hood up, but everyone around them knew who he was.   
Many bowed or stepped out of their path.  
  
There was Blaise Zabini on one side and Draco Malfoy on the other.   
In the middle of them, The Dark Lord. Several steps behind them were three of the Dark Lord's body guards.   
Though none with sense dared appose the Dark Lord,   
there were occasionally crazed muggle-borns that charged him with knives and such.   
  
They were at Salazar's Street, a very long market-place-like area in Salazar's Hills.   
The long street was littered with vendors and salesmen of every sort.   
There were carts and cages to buy Muggle-borns in, Shops set up with lovley muggle-born women,   
for the Harems of powerful wizards. Places to buy human blood and organs for powerful torture and death spells.   
Shops where you could buy Muggle-born children for wizzard children's playmates.   
Places to go for lessons in the Dark Arts and everything evil you could imagen.  
  
Blaise Zabini was the perfect example of a good Death Eater.   
He'd married Morganna Jennings, had a son, pledged him to the Dark Lord and continued in his service to him,   
advising him and keeping him company. He slid his hand through his greased black hair.   
His inky black eyes were always darthing around, taking in the surroundings.   
He had joined the Death Eaters not for the cause, but the power.   
He was a tall, thin man who wore the traditional elaborate black robes of a Death Eater.   
Blaise was Voldermort's second favorite.  
  
Draco Malfoy was, however, his most prominate pupil, and friend.   
He cared little for advising the Dark Lord, that was a risky business.   
He prefered to spend time discussing business with him,   
while he constantly urged Draco to find a suitable woman and settle down, though he did not mean it in truth.   
In truth, the Dark Lord admired and envied his youth, good looks, and life style.   
The Dark Lord had a harem of immence size, though he had married Romona Lorenn,   
a breath taking witch in the prime of her life, and the center of power.   
Draco had a lazy demuner, but the Dark Lord knew him, and his ambtion, his thirst for power.   
He knew Draco Malfoy was givin to blind rages, where he sometimes killed numerous muggle-borns.   
  
Draco, like Blaise, had grown up. He was nearing his 20th birthday.   
He lacked the uptight nature that was ever persistent in Blaise Zabini.   
His hair was always left untouched by styling products which were ever popular.   
A blond lock fell in his face as they pressed down the croweded street.   
He too, wore the Death Eater robes of Honnor. He was just taller than Zabini, and well-built for his thin frame.   
He had to be; chaseing down Mudbloods required a person in shape.  
  
  
Voldermort and the two men had stopped in frount of a harem sales-cart.   
All the woman were in one very large cage. There were perhaps 40 of them.   
  
"See anything you like?" Voldermort asked Draco casually.  
  
Draco eyed the women. He was a conesuerr of beauty, all his women were of outstanding beauty,   
but none from this cart caught his eye.   
  
"Not really, they look quite commen." He commented.   
  
All the woem were dressed in revealing silks and cloths.   
All anywhere from 18 to 30 years old.   
  
"Rest assured, My Lord, anything you desire is yours, a gift for My Lord."   
The small owner bowed and kissed the hem of Voldermort's robes. Voldermort nodded at the man.   
  
Get off my robes you filth, he thought, but did not say.   
The man was a pureblood, or at least a half-blood, and so the man was one of his.  
He brushed past the sales man to examin one teen-age girl. She looked exodic with her almod-shaped eyes and wavy raven hair.   
She seemed utterly petrafied. He came very close and lifted her chin to face him.   
  
She spat in his face.   
  
"For my brother" She said in a heavy accent.   
Voldermort lifted his hand to wipe the spit from his face. HE looked at her again.   
The whole crowd surrounding the cart seemed to hold its breath.   
  
"Avada Kadava" He said simply, and the girl slumped down to the floor of the cage.   
The other girls croweded away from her, screaming and hyrestical.   
  
He calmly walked to the desk near where the owner stood.   
He dropped a purse of 50 Gallons on it.   
"For your insobordinate concubine" he said, and they continued down their path.   
The street felt a little quieter afterward. Draco Malfoy couldn't surpress a smirk. 


	2. Une Prevision

What Cannot Be Purchased  
  
Chapter two: Une Prévision.   
(A Prediction)  
  
  
Later that week Draco returned to his estate. Voldermort had informed him he had a job to do.   
An assination, to be exact. The Target was a high-profile wizard in Ireland: Michael O'Henry.  
Though the Death Eaters had spread themselves all over England and most of Europe in general,  
they had not been able to take Ireland. The Irish people were very resistant.   
They had stuck to the old ways to the very end.   
  
Mr. O'Henry, it seemed, had a very high place.   
Being half-blooded himself, he stood strongly behind the Irish Chancellor,   
whom was to Ireland what The Minister of Magic was to England.   
It seemed he had much influence in the Chancellors thoughts and desisions.   
Voldermort wanted him silenced. He was planning on signing an agreement with the Chancellor.   
The only reason the Chancellor had resisted was because he feared loosing his power and place.   
Voldrmort had assured him he could keep his place, so long as he joined the Death Eaters.   
  
Of course none of this would work with Michael O'Henry in the way.   
Draco knew he would need a good team for the undertaking.   
It wasn't just killing him, he had to kill him quietly, leave no suspitions.   
He had chosen for his team Crabbe, Demona Stragen and Zach Perston.   
Zach Preston was strait out of Drumstrang, a very powerful young wizard full of potential.   
Though he could be sneeky and not always trust worthy, he was by far a good choice.  
  
The house staff snapped to attention as Draco Malfoy crossed the threshold.   
All the maids and cleaners bowing and curtsying.   
All stopped work as he made his way to his chambers.   
Once there, the staff resumed their chores.   
  
Draco had to leave at once in order to meet Demona before the rest of them.   
He began gathering his things and was surprised when the massive doors to his chamber swung open.  
  
An African woman with long curls down to her waist and large eyes stood before him.   
She quickly dropped to one knee in respect. "Lord Malfoy" She addressed him.   
  
"Why are you away from the Harem? Calipso, I had thought you knew your place" He frowned.   
"Forgive me, my lord, but I have had a vision. You were in my dreams" She said seriously.  
"Not surprising", He said with a grin spreading across his face.   
"My lord, I speak the truth, i swear it!" She said passionatly.  
  
Draco was familar with Calipso's powers of sight. He had never known her to be wrong.   
She had forseen all his triumphs, his father's death, and a few serious injuries he had received.  
  
He leaned back against the divan, lazily.   
"So what have you seen? Voldermort's fall, my death, again, an attack?"   
He counted off the options on his fingers as he spoke.   
  
She shook her head in the negative.   
"No master. I saw you in your Death Eater robes, but your heart was missing.   
It was gone from your body, it was laying on the floor. It was cut out, i just know it.   
And yet you lived still." She said.   
  
"So, what does this mean to you? Am i going to die? Or is it symbolic?   
Does this mean the loss of my humanity?"  
  
"I do not know. It does not feel like the death of your body" she said tentitivly.  
"Then what?"  
"La mort de l'esprit" She said in her native tounge. "The death of your soul" She explained.  
  
He laughed. "Well it never was very useful" he said, with relief.   
"Thank you, but I have to be on my way, back to the harem now.   
Do the other girls know i have returned?"  
  
"Yes. Shall i send for a woman?" She asked.  
  
"Sadly, no. I have no time for those things right now." He said with his trademark smirk.  
  
She returned the smile, and knelled.  
  
"I will come to you when I return" he said, trailing a finger down her jaw line.  
"Dismissed"  
  
After she left the room she dropped to her knees in the hall and whispered:  
"que le bon Dieu soit son copain du voyage."  
(May God go with him)  
  
  
  
~Thanks to all those who read and review. The next chapter is much longer,   
though there is still no Hermione in sight, it won't be long~   
  
  
(Much thanks to Esalazione Venefica for her advice with my French.   
Sadly, all I have is an online translater. I am taking the language next year.   
Please, if anyone notices mistakes in the French in the story, let me know) 


	3. Une Réunion de Mal

What Cannot Be Purchased  
  
Chapter Three: Une Réunion de Mal   
(A Gathering of Evil)  
  
Draco entered the Seven Snakes Tavern a few moments late.   
He walked to the bar and ordered a drink. While sipping it he was really scanning the room.   
She was there - in the back, in the shadows.   
How appropriate.   
  
He made his way to the table and casually pulled up a chair.  
"Get tired of standing on your street corner, Demona?"  
The attractive young woman smiled up at him.   
  
"Draco, darling. I hear we have a mission." She ignored his comment.   
"Yes, in Ireland" He nodded, serious.  
"This is the fourth time you've put me on your team. Trying to get to know me better?" She smirked.  
"Every man in Salazar Hills knows you very well" He raised his eyebrow suggestively.  
"Oh, ever the charmer! Draco, give up this facade and just ask me to marry you already!" She said sarcastically.  
  
He placed his hand on hers, looking at her with false concern.  
"No, no Demona. We can't. I just couldn't be the one to take your innocence.   
We all know how you're saving yourself for that one special man" She laughed at him. A smile tugged at his lips.  
"Oh, Draco that was low." She pouted.  
  
Low but not far from the truth. Demona was anything but innocent. Her long black hair contrasted with her vampiristic pallor. Her green eyes always held him whole, but he preferred to focus on her plump lips which could entrance any man and leave a priest aroused.   
Despite what her robe did not show, Draco knew she had a full figure with a slim waist. She was beautiful, breathtaking, which was exactly why he had chosen her, aside from her cunning. He needed her qualities for the task ahead of them.  
  
"When are the others combing?" She switched to her business mode; the bantering was over, for now.  
"Before eight"  
"So, who am I working with this time?" She asked, tossing her hair back in a lazy gesture.  
"Crabbe, for brute strength. Zach Preston, you remember him, the young one. And myself to maneuver the whole thing." He yawned.  
  
"What about me?" She pouted at him.  
"You get to be my love slave" He grinned wickedly.  
"Draco!" she fluttered her eyelashes."I'm not that sort of girl!"   
  
"Of course you aren't, and the Dark Lord loves little furry animals." came a voice behind her.  
Zach Preston stepped into the dim light of the corner. True, Draco and Demona were young, but he was younger still. Just 17 with freckles and auburn hair, looking quite innocent, when he wanted to. He bowed in respect to Draco and sat down.  
"Hello Preston", said Demona, casually.   
He nodded to her.  
  
"Not to sound over anxious, but when do we leave and what exactly are we doing?" He asked Draco.  
Demona laughed. "So eager. Relax. You'll learn something about Draco: he won't give a scrap of information until the last moment. He loves his power, don't you Draco?"  
"That, plus precautions. Not to mention I don't want to repeat myself four times." He eyed them lazily, but really he was looking for Crabbe.  
  
"I will say this", he continued. "We are going to Ireland".  
Preston's eyes went wide. "Ireland? Is the Dark Lord finally taking Ireland?" He asked, eager.  
Draco shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know all of it, just my part" He said.  
Demona rolled her eyes. She knew Draco knew everything the Dark Lord was planning, he just refused to share. It was pointless to call him on it.  
  
"And how is The Dark Lord?" she asked with mock sweetness.  
Draco frowned. "He's getting more irritable. The other day he used the Avada on a slave in the middle of Salazar's Street."  
"The cheeky bit of muggle-born filth probably deserved it." She quipped.  
"Perhaps. But that shows he's loosing his temper, which could be a weakness." Draco said with logic.  
Demona threw her hands up. "He's the DARK LORD! Let him loose his bloody temper; he owns everything!"  
Draco shook his head.  
  
"There's Crabbe", said Preston. "I can smell him" He wrinkled his nose.  
Crabbe blundered over and sat down, looking to Draco for instructions.  
"Alright men" Said Draco, leaning forward.  
"And women", Demona hissed.  
"And women - as you all know, for the past three years Ireland has remained just out of the Dark Lord's reach. Now, however, there is chance of an agreement between the Chancellor and the Dark Lord. An agreement that can only come to pass if Michael O'Henry isn't breathing."  
"So we're gonna kill him!" Said Crabbe, proud of his deduction.  
Everyone looked at him, exasperated.  
"Yes, Crabbe, very good." Said Draco, dryly.  
  
"We've got a lot to contend with. A manor full of charms, a host of spells and curses set against anyone with the dark mark, a dozen body guards and a few Spirits of Godric. Now, the dark mark I can mask, the body guards can be sidetracked, the curses can be dealt with, but it's the Godric group i'm concerned about." He confided.  
"Excuse me, but the WHAT? The Godric who?" asked Zach.  
  
Draco sighed. "No, of course you wouldn't know, you're two young to remember. When the Dark Lord seized Hogwarts and Drumstrang in my 6th year, all the students who apposed the Dark Lord were enslaved, banished or executed. Ravenclaws preferred death. Some Hufflepuffs fought it out, some fled. The Griffindors though, they went underground. They migrated to Ireland and America, even as far as China. Different clans came together. They are rebels. Rebels who continued their magical education, and still appose the Dark Lord. The rebels in Ireland are the Spirits of Godric."  
He turned to the rest of them. "I'm sure they suspect an attack. As O'Henry is one of their last hopes of keeping Ireland unclaimed, they most likely have several guards on him. Smart ones, powerful witches and wizards. I'd say anywhere from three to five, if i had to guess."  
  
"So, we Avada them, whoosh, their dead, then we Avada O'Henry. It doesn't sound hard." Said Demona, seeming board.   
"Demona," said Draco through clenched teeth, "What part of SECRET mission don't you get?"  
She glared at him.  
  
"And what do you propose, oh Glory of the World?" she spat.  
"We're sedating the guards, then giving a memory charm. The curses and spells leave to me and Zach. All we can do about the Godric clan is try to avoid them. One of us will be inside, stun O'Henry, levitate him out the window, down to us. We put him in a cage. We bring him back here, Avada him and we're done."  
"And what exactly do we do if we run into the Spirits of Godric? Run away? Beg for mercy?"  
  
"No, we kill 'em!" Said Crabbe. Everyone ignored him.  
"It's likely they'll be top-wizards. You can't Avada them in the house, it will set off alarms. Best to stun them and bring them along for the ride. Then we hand them over to the Dark Lord, he loves to play with them" said Draco.   
"Wait, you said something about the dark mark setting off alarms. That means none of us can get in." Zach Preston pointed out.  
"There are ways." He said cryptically.  
  
"You also said we needed someone inside. How do you propose we do that?", asked Demona airily.  
Draco smiled wickedly. "That's where you come in."  
"So i'm going to be the one to stun him?"  
"Yes, if you make it that far." he teased. Then he became serious.  
  
"Anyone, who cripples or ruins or hinders this mission in any way will answer to me. And rest assured you won't make it to see another sunrise. Understood?" He barked.   
This was working Draco, the ambitious Draco Voldermort favored. He was cold, calculated, and accepted no screw ups. Demona had seen him finish off Goyle in a fit of rage. Goyle had screwed up; no one made the mistake of faltering when working with Draco, or The Dark Prince, as some had nicknamed him.  
  
"Any questions?. I don't mean about your roles, I mean about what we're up against."  
There was silence. Crabbe raised his hand.  
  
"Why do we need-" Crabbe stopped to count everyone at the table "-*Four* people to kill *one* person?"  
"Crabbe, you just stay quiet and don't do anything. When I tell you to hit someone you knock them out, alright?" Said Draco.  
"Okay..." Crabbe was still clearly confused. But he spent 90% of his life that way, so no one was concerned.  
  
"Alright. Meeting is over. Grab a flask and get ready to travel. We can't appreciate in the particular place we're headed, but we can get pretty close." He informed them.   
"You can't appreciatein any modernized place in Ireland. How about Galway Bay?" Asked Demona.  
"Fine" Draco said.  
"See you there, dear". Demona took one last sip of her drink and vanished.  
Draco waited until the other two were gone and then, followed in suit. His blood was racing, his mind was clear, his senses alert: He was ready for the hunt. 


	4. Tâche du diable

What Cannot Be Purchased  
  
Chapter 4: Tâche du diable  
(Task From the Devil)  
  
They all stood outside the large castle. It was the government of Ireland, the pintical of power. Inside was the Chancellor, and Patric O'Henry. Draco closed his eyes, listening. He half expected to be able to sense his prey.   
  
  
"Every night at 9:00, O'Henry leaves. He takes his broom or a carrage, always. Tonight, he's brought his carrage. He goes home, retires to his private rooms and is to be disturbed under no circumstances. He also has a habit of bringing lovly young women home with him and throwing them out before sunrise. Can anyone see where I am going with this?"  
  
Demona groaned. "Great, i get to sleep with a middle-aged, balding mudblood."  
"You don't actually have to sleep with him, just catch him off guard while he's undressing. Stupafy, lower him out the window, we cage him and get back to England."  
  
"How am i suppose to make it out of the house with all the bloody body guards?" she winned.   
"I'll levitate a carpet up for you, you just sit down and trust me" He said.  
"Oh yes, trust Draco Malfoy, now i feel safe" She said sourly.  
  
"Now, I brought exactly what i want you to wear. I'm leaving you right on this street. We'll be long gone when he picks you up. We'll meet you at the Manor. Once you stun him, open the window in this bed chamber, make sure you have the light on. That will be our signal, now get dressed." He left no room for discussion.  
  
One black leather skirt and leather boostey later Demona was ready. Draco checked the time: 8:30.   
"Alright Demona, stay right here. We're on our way to the Manor. But first..." He grabbed her arm and pointed his wand at her dark mark. She heard him whispering and as he did a snake tatoo began to wind itself around, over the mark until only the serphant was visable. She couldn't supress a smile. This was Draco to a tee. Never warning the enemy, but little hints here and there. After all, who but a supported of Voldermort, a Slytherin, would have a snake tatoo?   
  
"This way your mark won't trip the alarms." He explained. And they left her there on that street corner, in the freezing night.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Draco, Crabbe and Zach his in the forest just beyond O'Henry Manor. Draco obsereved the three guards just outside the gate, there were no others in sight. *In Sight* are the key words here, he thought to himself.  
  
"Alright, so we wont trip the alarms put thes over your dark mark." He handed the other two men skin-colored patches, like band-aids almost.   
  
"Okay. Zach, this is what i want you to do. You approach the gate and say you are here to see your Uncle Patric. With that hair you could pass for Irish." He said.   
  
"They'll put you into a line of questioning, just say your mother, his sister is ill and you need to see him imeditly. While they are busy with you, Crabbe and i will approach from behind. These guys are protected against the Avada and the Stupify, so we use the freeze-frame. Got it? Crabbe, you just take the one with the black hair, i've got the other two." He looked to Crabbe to make sure he was digesting this.   
  
"The freeze-frame spell lasts five miniuts, so we have to work fast. We need to get the keys from to the gate, open it, put the keys back and get out of site. When it wears off they wont remember five miniuts before it was cast, so they won't remember us. What we need here is perfection and speed. Everyone ready?" The other two nodded.   
  
Moments later they had finished with the guards and were sprinting twards the manor, Crabbe lagging behind a bit. Zach stopped at the frount, but Draco kept going to the rear of the large home.  
  
"Won't the master's rooms be in the frount?"   
"Normally, but since he is in fear for his life he's probably making his home in the back, on the top floor. O'Henry loves his luxery." He panted as they ran. Soon, all three of them were hidden in the shadows right under O'Henry's window. Draco took the small box out of his pocket. It drew and grew until it was larger than himself. He opened it, fished around and pulled out a rather large throw rug. Setting it on the ground he rolled it out. He also brought out a small metal box about the size of his hand. Abruptly, he muttered something and the larger box sharank down again and he replaced it in his pocket.   
  
All three of them exchanged looks as they heard the clattering of hooves approaching. Surly enough, it was O'Henry. Just visable through the carrage window was Demona's long eboney hair.  
  
"This is it boys, on your guard" Draco said. The carrage rolled to a hault and Demona and O'Henry entered through the massive frount doors, out of sight. 


	5. Les Anges De Gardien

Chapter 5: Les Anges De Gardien   
( The Guardian Angels)  
  
  
  
Demona walked into the over-decorated foyer laughing with Mr. O'Henry over some imbicilic joke he'd made. The arm he had hitched around her waist moved lower, suggestivly. He suddenly stopped and ushered her firther into the house.  
  
"Before we go upstairs, there are sompeople i'd like you to meet" He said.   
Alarms went off in Demona's mind. "Oh must we really see them now? I want to be *alone* with you.." Her voice was low and seductive. He shivered.   
"It will only take a moment."  
'FUCK, he's taking me to the damned Godric's Spirits, who will smell this setup a mile a way.'  
  
He pushed open massive doors which lead into a sort of library-sitting room. There were three people inside. One was a blond woman, probably about thirty, with a thin figure. She was tall, and looked naturally suspitious. There was also a man, tall, a bit muscular, with brown hair. Last, the one who looked like the leader. She had brown hair that curled in various places and intellegent-looking ginger-brown eyes. She was shorter then the other two and about Demon'a age. All three were wearing scarlet robes.   
  
'*scarlet* robes...scarlet, Griffindor color...SHIT.' Demona smiled as the trio rose to greet her.   
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Finnigan, Mrs. Gallen, this is...eh...my friend...ms..." He looked to her for help.  
"Debra. Pleased to meet you." Demona shook hands with all three. They eyed her suspitiously.  
Only then did Demona notice right next to their left eye they each had a star tatoo. It was about half the size of a fingernail, and crimson, outlined in gold. 'It must be the Godric Mark'   
  
"Well, Debbie and I are...old friends, so we'll be catching up for a while, see that we are not disturbed unless it is urgent." He advised.   
  
He waited for the seal of approval. Two of the three nodded, but the brunett, Granger, still eyed Demona suspitiously. O' Henry seemed to think two out of three was fine, for he yanked her from the room. That Granger woman was definatly perceptive...and frightening.   
  
He shut and locked the doors behind them, turning to eye her like a preditor.   
'A half-bald, pot-bellied, middle-aged preditor' she reminded herself.   
As he looked down, loosing his belt, she held her breath and said "Stupify!"   
He slumped to the ground.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Hermione shifted uneasily in her chair. Someting was off about that woman Debra. She knew it. Finnigan and Gallen had gone into a game of cards. It had been two weeks, and Hermione knew that an attempt on O' Henry's life would be made soon. Despite the chill of the evening Hermione felt sweat on her brow. Her breathing increased.  
  
I'm paranoid, she thought. She excused herself to the bathroom. It was far from the commen room they had been lounging in. As she splashed water on her face, looking into the mirror over the sink, she was startled. Though she had been a Spirit of Godric for sometime, the shock of seeing that small crimson star near the corner of her eye never left her. A tatoo, an emblem of who she was. Suddenly it struck her - The girl had a tatoo right wear the dark mark should be, and not just any tatoo, a *snake* tatoo, a green one. Slytherin, Death Eater, oh Fates!   
  
She scrambled out of the bathroom and ran to Michael O' Henry's personal rooms. She did not chance knocking. "Alohamora" She hissed at the lock. She threw herself against the doors, praying he was still alive.   
  
She was greeted with the sight of O' Henry lying motionless on the floor, Debra leaning out the window.   
"Drop your wand! Who are you?" She screamed.   
The dark-haired woman spun around to face her, but only pointed her wand at Hermione. They stood like that for perhaps miniuts, neither daring to make a move; both knowing they were matched.   
  
It could have gone on for hours like that it Hermione hadn't been caught off guard by somthing. A carpet was floating outside the window. In that instant, her eyes had wandered to it and she heard the word "Stupify" Shouted before her body went limp.   
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Demona clucked her tounge in disappointment at the girl. Quickly, she loaded O 'Henry onto the carpet, and oh a whim, the Granger girl too. She would be worth a bit, she could sell her to a harem keeper, or perhaps give her to Voldermort as a gift.   
  
"Mission nearly screwed" She hissed at Draco when she stepped off the carpet.  
"I told you to be carful" He said. "What- is that?" He said pointing to the girl.  
" A spirit who almost caught me. Thank the Fates she lost her concentration for a second, sh's stupified."  
  
"We have to get out of here. They lock everything down at midnight." He said.   
"So lets go" Said Zach.  
"If only it were that simple" He mused.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Later, they all sat around talking about a job well done. Only then did the discussion of O' Henry come in.   
They had taken him to the Dark Lord, who had congradulated them on a job well-done. Now they were discussing the Spirit girl.  
  
"I think it's only fair I get to keep her. I am the one who stupified her" Said Demona in a condecending voice.   
"I think she's actually very beautiful" Said Draco to himself.   
"Oh well, she belongs to me" Said Demona, relishing having somting Draco wanted.   
"I'll give you 50 for her" He said.  
"Done"   
  
They traded the money and Draco took his new prize to the Harem. All the women dropped to their knees.   
"Calipso, clean her up and tell her whear she is" He said, laying Hermione's still stupified form on a near-by divan.  
  
"Yes Master Malfoy" She said.   
  
Draco left, locking the doors, and returned to his guests. That amusment was for later. He loved breaking in the new ones. He never raped a woman in his life. Every single one in the Harem he had seduced, their first nights they had been willing, after hours of his attempts. and they all stayed, never trying to escape, because the world was a dangerous place for them and he treated them well. Just as he would treat the new one well. Tonight would be her seduction. 


	6. Ange de voûte dans le purgatoire

What Cannot Be Purchased  
Chapter Six: Ange de voûte dans le purgatoire  
(Arch Angel in Purgatory)  
  
She woke to a pounding in her head and a feeling of insecurity. She looked up and realized she hadn't a clue where she was. There was silk everywhere, and pillows, divans, and scads of woman, all dressed in fine cloths, looking like high-class concubines.   
  
*They are high-class concubines* She realized. She was in a harem, which meant she was not longer in Ireland. She was somewhere under Voldermort's reign, and she had been sold - sold, like an animal - to some noble. She shuttered. How much time had passed since she had battled with that spy-woman at O'Henry manor?   
  
A black woman with delicate features dressed in purple silks stood over her. Hermione snapped up, looking wildly about her. This woman looked on her with sorrow, as though she was use to this reaction and could sympathize. She sat down gingerly on the divan with Hermione.   
  
  
"I'm Calipso" She said, simply.   
  
"I'm Hermione" Somehow, the fear was receding after hearing this strong woman's calm tone.   
  
"Do you know where you are?" She asked gently, placing a hand on Hermione's.  
  
"A harem?" She asked, willing herself to be wrong.   
  
"Yes, you've been here for several hours. You came to me stupified" She said calmly.  
  
  
Hermione stood up, taking in the room yet again, willing herself to be wrong. Any moment now she would wake up in her own bed...  
  
"Please be calm, you have nothing to fear" Said Calipso in an assuring way.  
  
"I have everything to fear" She spat back. She wanted to cry, but that would not be the action of a Spirit of Godric. She had to be strong. The women here lounged, engaged in muffled conversation or card games. She glimpsed her future : Cards instead of books, noise and company instead of peace and solitude, trading on her body instead of her mind. She felt cold fear and denial rush through her. It chilled her, like ice water being pumped through her veins.  
  
"If you will just be calm, i may be able to sort this out"   
  
"Where am i? I mean what country?" Hermione asked.  
  
"England, of course. Were you somewhere else?" She whispered.   
  
"Yes. Ireland. Oh god - that means he's dead! " She felt her stomach lurch. O 'Henry was dead, and now Ireland would go to the Dark Lord.   
  
"I feel sick" She mumbled.  
  
  
The next hours or so passed in a haze. Hermione was not yet ready to deal with the cold reality, so she retreated back into her mind. She was only half aware of Calipso bathing and dressing her, talking of nothing really, just trying to help her adjust.   
  
  
When Hermione came back to reality she was sitting in front of a vanity, Calipso brushing her hair. She could distinctly smell lavender. She had been going over in her mind what she could do, there were still holes in her understanding, her comprehension, but she now knew the basics of what was happening, and accepted it. Her mind had worked fast to reason and now it raced to find away out.  
  
  
"Where is my wand?" She asked. Calipso was a bit startled the girl had spoken after such a long silence she dropped the brush.   
  
  
*They've probably broken it, or burned it* She thought with grief.   
  
"The Master has it, you'll get it back when he feels you are ready for it" She explained.  
  
"Wha-? You mean he gives us our wands? Do you have yours?" She hurried on, her mind already plotting.  
  
"Yes, i do. No, we can't use it to escape, don't attempt to escape. It will do you no good. The entire manor is guarded with a varity of charms and spells so that no one may pass in or out without the master unlocking it with his wand. Even if you did get away you would only be captured, possibly killed or resold. The Master treats us well, you are best off here" She sounded very old at the moment, like one who had given this speech many times.   
  
"How can you say that?! The master treats you well! Rape and imprisonment are such luxuries!" She snapped.   
  
"We are not raped. The master has never raped us. Every woman goes to his bed willingly. Some hold out longer then others, he never forces them, eventually they succumb to him." She shrugged.  
  
"This world is a cruel place for muggle-borns, especially females, and the Master respects us, keeps us safe, does not harm us. We live in luxury, he asks for barley anything in return. It is sad - compared to freedom, but if i must have a master, i would choose this one" She declared.  
  
Hermione decided this woman, though gentle and intelligent, was brainwashed and therefore of no good use to her. All she could to was question her. Hermione had another idea, but it all depended on this master.   
  
  
"Is -the master-," She made them sound like swear words, "very political?"   
  
"Very. Power is what he works for. He is right hand to the Dark Lord himself" She said gravely.   
  
*Then i may have a chance* She thought. In Ireland, she was well-respected and a woman of power. Surly a ransom could be paid, or a hostage exchanged, surly there would be some arrangement she could make with this intelligent and power-hungry man.   
  
"It is almost time" Said Calipso.  
  
"For?"  
  
"You will share the masters bed tonight" She said, waiting for a hysterical reaction.  
  
*Well, of course this is the perfect opportunity to come to an agreement with him. I will not sleep with him, a bargain will be made and i will be back in Ireland within the week, yes, all good and well*   
  
  
Hermione had been gazing into the mirror in front of her without really seeing her reflection. She was dressed in a red, silken dress, her curly hair loose, coming half-way down her back. The face looked vacant, like a shell. She smiled at the dress. The crimson-red color gave her courage. The star near her eye stood out, like a red badge of courage.   
  
"Are you ready?" She asked.   
  
Sighing deeply, Hermione managed a smile. "Yes"   
  
"Then I will take you to Master Malfoy"   
  
"WHAT??!!" She roared. Several woman screeched, some came to see what had happened.   
  
Calipso tried desperately to calm her. "Fille du calme vous-même !" (Calm yourself, girl!) She swore in her first language.   
  
"Mal-Mal- bought *ME* , here? Malfoy? He's right hand to VOLDERMORT??? MALFOY? I'm in MALFOY manor? I'm doing business with MALFOY? You do mean DRACO Malfoy right? Not LUCAS Malfoy! Gods, that would be even worse!" She raved, swinging her arms around, gasping.   
  
  
"Draco Malfoy. You know of him?" Calipso asked tentatively.   
  
"Know of him - ha! - you have no idea. Now i understand, this is all about revenge! He is one twisted sick son of a -"   
  
"Hold your tongue!" Calipso whispered fearfully, glancing about to make sure he was not any where near. "You must show him respect"   
  
"HA! Respect- that filthy, disgusting, low -"   
  
Calipso turned a glare on her that could have killed.   
  
"I oh, i can't believe this" She gulped.   
  
The other woman did not have a chance to reply, the doors to the harem swung open and in the door way stood Draco Malfoy's personal servant. All the women froze in place. He locked eyes with Calipso.   
  
"Bring the girl"   
  
  
He walked at a quick pace through the dark halls - it was nearly midnight and the large manor was sufficiently frightening to Hermione on top of everything else. Calipso was silent, casting worried glances her way every so often. He lead the two women to a pair of large double doors. Shoving them open, he gestured for Hermione to enter.   
  
  
She held her breath - expecting Draco Malfoy himsNext to be standing there, ready to greet her with that cocky smirk on his face. Instead there was only the majestic room. Doors swung closed behind her and she was left alone, locked in, like the lamb waiting for her slaughter.  
  
  
The uneasiness in her mind finally exploded in a scream as she felt a pair of strong but thin arms encircle her waist.  
  
  
  
A/N : Cliffy! What will happen? Thanks so much to all who have reviewed. Calipso is based on the character Calipso from The Odyssey, only more wise. Nex chapter is already in the making. All those kind enough to read this story might like my other Draco/Hermione short fic. called "Smiles and Smirks". As always i praise Sphinx, the goddess of Snape/Hermione fic. (and DONT SAY "EW!" Becasue it is my favorite coupling.) If you like Snape fic you might try my very favorite story of mine : Silence and Tears. Now i am finished with the shamless plugs. 


	7. Séduction et Péché

What Cannot Be Purchased

Chapter Seven: Séduction et Péché

(Seduction and Sin)

Hermione's fears finally ripped free in a desperate scream. But she was a fighter, and out of habit jammed her elbow back into Draco's face. The world spun and she found herself pinned to the carpet being straddled by a smirking Malfoy. 

"Malfoy! Get off of me!" she bellowed. 

His eyes darkened. "Don't be impertinent, girl. That is the only warning you get"

Hermione huffed and struggled against him while Draco held her in place with his thighs, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"GET OFF YOU BASTARD!" 

She felt a sharp pain on her cheek and realized he'd hit her. 

"I said to show respect for your lord and master" he growled. 

But his mood lightened. He got up and strolled over to the bed. With a few well-placed movements he had arranged himself lounging in the numerous pillows in a way that could only be described as sexy. He motioned for her to follow. He was rewarded with a blush creeping into her cheeks and shuffling of feet. After a moment she regained her resolve. Standing her ground she addressed him. 

"Malfoy-"

"Master" he corrected. 

'It will be a cold day in Hell when I call him Master' she thought.

He frowned at her suddenly. "That Star" he said in reference to her Star of Godric, "will have to go"

"You can't" She said haughtily, "it's impossible to remove" 

"There are ways" he said vaguely.

"What I am trying to say is that I am worth much more as a prisoner of War, as a trade, then as _this_"

She was cut off as he rose to place a finger to her lips, and slid it down across her mouth. While she was not the least bit tempted to sleep with him he was being very distracting and she felt she was getting nowhere. In any other situation she would have slept him.

"Malfoy" she said, trying to bring him back to reality. She cursed herself and waited for the blow she expected. Instead, she felt a hot mouth close to her ear. 

"The only time you are allowed to say my name is when you scream it in ecstasy." She shivered. Not because it was inviting, but the statement was so brash, so completely strait forward it seemed appealing to discuss the taboo of sex so openly. 

"I. Am. Not. Going. To. Sleep. With. You." She said slowly. "Aren't you listening? Why waste a chance for bargaining to nurse a school grudge?" She said, backing away from his body, which had somehow come entirely too close to her.

"School grudge?" He asked sharply. She had his attention now. Hermione swallowed. 

"Yes. Against Harry, Ron and myself. Well, mainly Harry but I know you've always been angry about-" She was interrupted by the sound of his rich laughter. 

He looked at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. Through his laughter he managed to choke out "The fates-have-a sense- of humor-" Pause for breath "don't they-Granger?" 

"What is so funny?" She asked tentatively, feeling Malfoy had finally lost it. 

"I had no idea it was you. I didn't recognize you. Wow, Granger, you're not that ugly anymore. Being in the same room with you doesn't make me sick, imagine that" He mused. 

She stood up straighter, realizing she was under scrutiny by the enemy. 

"This is too good to waste," He muttered.

"Have a seat, Granger" He gestured to the bed. 

"I'd rather not" She said stiffly. 

"Imperio" He said casually. "Now come here and sit down" The last order was rough. 

She struggled to fight it, but in vain. A moment later her legs through her down inches away from Malfoy on the bed. She scowled at him. 

"Don't be sour, Hermione" He said silkily, using her given name as a weapon. 

He leaned closer, lips coming too close to her. 

"Would you like me to move?" He asked innocently. All she could do was glare, since he had not instructed her to speak. 

"Well, I suppose if my closeness was unwelcome you'd ask me to move" He teased wickedly. 

She looked at him with absolute hatred. He kissed her roughly complete with strong, thrusting tongue movements. She could feel nothing. Not the lust that surely would have come not the disgust. The Imperio wouldn't allow her to. So she lay there, he mouth being ravaged by her most hated enemy. He knew he had to stop himself soon, but the slick wetness of her lips and the tempting scent of perfume she was wearing were hard to resist. He kissed her several more times, not so rough, but long and deliciously. 

It was rape, in a sense, but it would also serve to remind her of her place in his house. 

With two words he released her from the Imperio. He had already stopped the oral assault. She sat up, stood up, and then backed away. Her expression was loathing, anger, fear and confusion. He had breeched the rules of the game. But it was his game, and he could change them as he liked. 

He realized his mistake then. The Imperio had prevented her from feeling anything along with what he had done, he realized. He would have to remember that next time. He walked over to his table and drew forth a quill and ink. 

_Calisto,_

_Make sure Hermione is ready to have dinner with me tomorrow evening. 9 o'clock sharp. I leave her in your capable hands. – Draco Stefan Malfoy _

He sealed the note so the words could only be seen by Calisto, to others the page would appear blank. He handed the note to Hermione. 

"Dismissed" He said coolly. If she had had her wits about her, she might have protested, but she still seemed a bit dazed and anxious to be away from him. No sooner had she stepped out of the chambers then Draco's manservant appeared to escort her back to the harem. 

This was a thing of nightmares. 

(_A/N: TOLD YA I"D CONTINUE! Now here is the finished chapter I've promised. It wasn't easy to write. Suggestions and comments are welcomed, praise is cherished and flames are kept in a little glass jar for heat during winter. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, in the combing chapter, or maybe the one after it, I will have a list of reviewers and thanks.) _


	8. Séduction et Péché

This is NOT a new chapter. I'm adding a note to this story to rid myself of guilt. I regret to say (especially to those of you reading my stories) that all Harry Potter-based stories by myself are being put on hold. It's not that I don't love them; I just need new genera to refresh my creativity. Thus, I'm off to work in the Hannibal and Phantom of the Opera sections, my two others loves. I do promise to finish The Art Which Binds Us and What Cannot Be Purchased, in time. 

Thanks to everyone for understanding,

(And special thanks to Pigwigion for betaing The Art Which Binds us. I appreciate it a lot)

AngelicGirl


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